


Will of Steel, Heart of Iron

by nannersmelo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Howard Stark sucks in all ways possible, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Viking!Steve, Young Tony Stark, darker Steve Rogers, prince!Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22124788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nannersmelo/pseuds/nannersmelo
Summary: When the Iron Kingdom is invaded by Vikings, young prince Anthony Stark can do nothing but await for his demise and hope his death will be a quick one.Little did he know, however, that his life was only about to really begin.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 67
Kudos: 567





	Will of Steel, Heart of Iron

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!, so... This is kind of a test, per se. I read a real good AU other day and I absolutely l o v e these medieval settings, so I wanted to give this a shot and see if it will be worth sharing more of if in a near future. I plan to continue writing more of it, but mostly for my own entertainment, but I was wondering if others wouldn't enjoy it too so... what the hell? Might as well check.
> 
> So, please let me know your thoughts and if you'd like to see more of this AU! I'm really invested in the idea~
> 
> PS: The foreign language (hopefully not absurdly butchered by translators) used in here is my sorry attempt on Icelandic. The translations will be at the end of the chapter!

Tony used to think that he knew all about nightmares, seeing that his life was a living one. Being the sole heir of someone like Howard Stark—or as he was ominously known, the Death Monger of the East—was everything but easy, even more so when the man seemed to hate and blame Tony for his mother’s passing after the arduous labor she went through to give birth to him. Tony never got to know any love from his father, and never had the chance of having none from his apparently caring mother—Jarvis liked to tell him all about Maria, at every chance he got—and worse than all, was the intimidating man King Howard keep as his right hand. 

Tiberius Stane, the son of Obadiah Stane—Howard’s most trusted royal adviser—was a man of easy smiles and awe-worthy politeness. For those who didn’t know better, he was nothing but the loyal and easy-going right arm of King Howard Stark—but Tony, of course, knew better. Tiberius was a man of a thousand faces, which he seemed to have inherited from his father, and his charming personality was nothing but a facade of his true intentions. True vile and twisted intentions, if the malicious looks he always directed Tony were any indication. A wolf wearing sheep-skin, and the King—a man so proud of his intellect and abnormal intelligence—seemed to fail to notice how his most trusted adviser and right hand were nothing but snakes that slithered around and seemingly waited for the right moment to pounce.

Tony had tried to warn his father once. He had caught Tiberius snooping around in Howard’s room, and he was pretty sure he saw the man slipping something inside a pocket as soon as Tony entered the room to question what he was doing. Tiberius had been dismissive, saying only that he had come find something his father was procuring for the king, but Tony had his doubts, so he asked Howard about it, only to be backhanded on the cheek and told to ‘stay the fuck out of royal business’. The explosive reaction had shocked Tony and stunned him into silence, and from that day on, he never commented to anyone anymore whenever he noticed Obadiah or Tiberius up to anything suspicious or entering places they had no business entering. Tony tried to force himself into obliviousness, his self-preservation begging him to avoid trying to push the matter, to insist, to ask questions—things he found himself wanting to do on a daily basis. He knew better than to incite Howard’s anger again, so despite his better judgment, he focused only on his studies and his inventions—Jarvis’ constant presence being what helped warm his heart during his often lonely days.

That was until Howard announced that he was to be betrothed to Obadiah’s devil spawn, and Tony’s already frail self-control completely shattered.

“What?!” He yelped, eyes wide as saucers and focused on the King as he sat on his throne and continued to analyze the papers in front of him, “What the hell you mean by that, father?!”

“Lower your tone, boy, you are speaking to your king.” Howard had lightly scolded without looking up from the parchment, and Tony felt the already cackling fire inside his chest burn like a furnace.

“I will not marry that man, _your highness_.” Tony bit out, his sarcasm not going unnoticed by Howard, who finally directed an annoyed look towards him. “You might trust that bald weasel he has for a father for whatever reason, but I don’t. Tiberius already torments me enough as it is, imagine if I belong to him in any way!”

“You talk like you have any choice on the matter, Anthony.” His father mused, an eyebrow raised. Tony saw red.

“You cannot force me to do this, it’s not fair.”

Howard scoffed. “And since when life is fair, boy? Tell me, was it fair to me when I lost your mother, so she could give birth to an ungrateful brat such as you? No. It wasn’t.” He remarked coldly, and while Tony wasn’t unfamiliar with Howard’s despise towards him, his words still stung enough to cause tears to blur his sight.

“Father, please—”

“Oh, so now I’m father?” Howard shook his head in disbelief, “My word is law, and you will abide to it, Anthony, whether you like it or not. Tiberius is like a son to me, and the son of my greatest confidant, not to mention a phenomenal warrior. He will do great to my court once I am no longer able to rule, so you will marry him and that’s final.”

Tears rolled freely down Tony’s cheeks now. He just couldn’t believe this was happening. “I am your son, not him! And you are practically condemning me to a life of suffering!”

Howard rolled his eyes, focusing back on his scrolls, “Spare me of your theatrics, Anthony. It’s just marriage, not the end of the world. And besides, I’m sure Tiberius will become quite reasonable as long as you keep him satisfied. It’s come to my knowledge he fancies you and your useless petite body for some reason, so might as well indulge his needs since you are not good for much else.”

That had stunned Tony into a shocked silence. That had been the cruelest thing his father—should he even address that man as ‘father’?—had ever said to him in all his 20 years of life, and it had been too much for him to bear, so he did nothing but flee the throne room without waiting to be dismissed, heading straight to Jarvis’ quarters crying inside his caretaker’s embrace until he had no tears left to cry and passed out of exhaustion.

The weeks after that passed by in a blur. Tony refused to leave his room, and only ate when Jarvis begged him to. He didn’t want to see the king, nor his royal adviser or his bastard of a son. He knew things were already being prepared for the royal wedding that would take place, but he wanted to have no part in it. Just the thought of it made him want to throw up, hence why he hardly bothered to eat. Who knows, maybe if he becomes ugly and thin, Tiberius won’t be so keen to this marriage. Jarvis obviously protested against such foolish plan, but Tony didn’t feel like he had other options. In a week’s time, he would be married to the bane of his existence, a man who would never treasure his genius or who he was, other than perhaps his body. A man who would probably seek other affairs when Tony became too used and his body wasn’t as satisfying and exciting as his younger body used to be. A man who would make his father’s already cruel reign even worst, and would never allow Tony to give any opinion about it. In a week’s time… his life would officially end, and he would do nothing but exist. In a week’s time… he would be as good as dead.

But then, the kingdom was attacked, and Tony still wasn’t sure if that had been a blessing or a curse.

Tony had read about those people. They went by many names, but the one that stuck to his brain had been just one: Vikings. Powerful men and women, who pillaged and plundered as they saw fit. They were pagans who worshiped gods different from the Christian one he had grown learning about, and who seemed to really dislike the rival religion. He lost the count of how many times he overheard Howard and Obadiah discussing the attacks to monasteries or Christian communities in distant kingdoms, or how the Scandinavian pirates seemed to be causing a ruckus at the seas. Tony was pretty sure one of their ships had been attacked by Vikings once, and he remembers that Howard had a particularly nasty mood during those days, but it had been just once. Other than that, no barbarians had been seen around their kingdom, seeing they were strategically far from the North where the Norsemen seemed to reside in; but that no longer seems to be the case, and Tony hated Howard more than ever for dismissing his ideas that would help fortify the castle and better prepare their knights for any incoming threat.

Their forces didn’t last two hours against the burly warriors wearing body armor and animal pelts, and their swords were no match for the heavy weapons the invaders swung with their terrifying strength. In less than a day, the Iron Kingdom had fallen to its knees before the barbarians, and now gathered in the throne room and fearing for their lives, Tony, Howard, Jarvis and countless other royal servants along with what was left of their royal guard, awaited the final judgment by the hands of their conquerors. Obadiah and Tiberius had left the kingdom early that morning to go see to some important matters regarding weapon trading in the east, and as the chief of their royal guard, Rhodes had gone with them for protection. Having the chief accompanying them had been a demand from Tiberius for whatever reason, which had really peeved Tony given Rhodey was not only the castle’s main protector but also his best friend, but now he was glad the man had departed. At least he would be safe. At least he wouldn’t die too.

He closed his eyes and whimpered. _God, I’m going to die._

“It will be alright, your highness, you’ll see.” Jarvis whispered to him while keeping his trembling body close, “I’m sure these fine men can be reasoned with. We’ll be alright.”

Tony choked out a sob, hiding his face further against Jarvis’ sleeping tunic. They had been caught by surprise in the middle of the night, so everyone gathered was wearing nothing but their sleepwear, much for Tony’s discomfort. He liked to sleep in the nude, which meant he was wearing absolutely nothing under his robes, and that was unnerving when you were surrounded by barbarians whose infamy involved plundering and sexual-assault.

Tony inhaled sharply. He just hoped he would have a quick death. 

“Who is your leader?!” Howard roared, causing Tony to jump in place and raise his head in alarm, “Bring him here at this moment!”

Tony released a shuddering breath, looking around towards their visitors and swallowing nervously as they regarded Howard with raised brows or blank stares, and then completely ignored him. Tony sighed in relief. The last thing they needed was for his stupidly arrogant father to make things even worse.

“Father, please, don’t rile them up.” Tony hissed, earning a pointed glare from the man, “We saw what they are capable of, we shouldn’t—”

A loud slap echoed through the eerily silent room, and Tony eyed his father’s wrathful expression as his left cheek stung from the slap. “Shut your mouth, you foolish boy! What do you know of how the world works?! Be quiet, before I personally ask these barbarians to rid you of your tongue.”

Rage and sorrow boiled Tony’s insides in a way that made him dizzy, and if weren’t for Jarvis’ arms firmly pulling him into a tight hug, he was pretty sure he would have disgracefully collapsed. Jarvis rocked them back and forth in a desperate attempt to comfort his prince, while glaring at his king in a way that if looks could kill, then Howard would have probably dropped dead right then. If the king noticed the act of defiance, however, he didn’t pay any mind to it, turning around once more to yell again at the Vikings and demand to see their leader.

Tony huffed and hid his face further against Jarvis’ chest. _I hope they cut your tongue for your insolence then, your arrogant son of a bitch._

Howard continued yelling and being ignored for God knows how long before something actually happened—that something being the throne room’s gigantic wooden door swinging open to allow passage to an entourage of new Vikings Tony had yet to see, and that had Howard shutting up almost immediately.

The group was clearly on a level above the men and women who had been holding them hostage. Their armors were of clear silver aside the steel, and each had a different intimidating level to them. The first ones were a man with short blond hair that carried an interesting bow seemingly made of bones and adorned with countless runes, and much for Tony’s amazement, a _woman_ . He was already appalled to see some women fighting together as they conquered their lands, but those were _clearly_ the leader’s estimate and most trusted warriors, and to think a woman have made place among them just completely threw Tony for a loop. He was used to seeing women being delicate things, meant to be seen and not heard, not warriors who bathe in blood and are strong enough to server heads from enemies, and way less being able to stand on equal ground with other men at a higher spot on whatever hierarchy the Vikings possessed. 

She had fiery red hair that fell over her shoulder until it reached her waist that was covered in intricate braids, and bright emerald green eyes that scanned the room with bone chilling precision. Tony felt himself shrinking in place, and if he was intimidated by the double-edged ax she carried in one of her hands, it was nobody’s business.

The next two were a dark skinned man who had an actual falcon perched on his shoulder, and Tony tried his best to keep from shivering at the sight of the bird of prey assessing the occupants of the room as if it were looking for something to sink its sharp claws in. By his side was a man whose scowl rivaled Rhodey’s when the Chief of Guard was in one of his bad moods, and differently from the clean shaven head from his dark skinned friend, he had a head full of brown hair also styled in countless braids—much like the redhead’s—and carried a concerning amount of weapons, which Tony did his best to ignore for the sake of his sanity. They were all very good looking, and it was hard to look away from them, since their presence was so overwhelming that it felt like they owned the room as soon as they entered it.

But as soon as they stepped aside to give passage to the real star of the show, well... Tony couldn’t help but to lift his head from Jarvis’ chest and gawk.

If Tony thought the others had presence, then he knew absolutely nothing. This man’s presence was so overpowering he silenced the entire room in a way that if a needle fell, Tony would be able to hear it hitting the ground. His expression was solemn, unconcerned, and his bright blue eyes scanned the occupants room in such a thorough way that Tony felt himself shiver in fear. His hair was dark blond, longer than the brunette’s but shorter than the redhead’s, and with less braids, which allowed it to fall freely and beautifully against his armored shoulders with a grace nobody would expect from a barbarian. He had a full beard, differently from his other male companions whose beards were thinner, and had a pure white fur cape strapped to his shoulders. There was a star in the middle of his chest armor, which was clearly the work of a highly skilled smith if the intricate details in the metal were any indication. It looked sturdy, almost… impenetrable, and Tony couldn’t help but to be impressed. He had heard pagans were nothing but filthy brutes who knew nothing other than to kill and take, but if that was the case… then how were they able to create such amazing pieces? The weapons were just as impressive, after all. Even more than the ones the Stark clan manufactured.

Which reminds him… Tony narrowed his eyes. The leader carried no weapons? Strange. Tony had read about Viking leaders too, and how they always kept themselves as armed as possible, given their powerful position that ought to attract a lot of envious eyes. The man had nothing but some kind of circular shield strapped to his back, and if their position hadn’t given away who was the leader, then Tony would probably have guessed it was Mr. Grumpy and his pal blades, and not bearded Adonis over there. He frowned. Nothing was going like he expected. Maybe Jarvis was right? These people looked civilized enough, maybe they could be reasoned with—

“So you are the leader? Took you long enough! Do you know how long I’ve been here waiting?!”

Tony inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. _Fuck, shut up, Howard_.

The Viking leader, however, didn’t answer. He just eyed Howard for a moment and then raised a brow, seeming to reassess the king with disapproving eyes. That didn’t sit well with Howard, of course, who foolishly stepped forward as he continued to yell, “Aren’t you listening to me, you stupid savage?! You are in the presence of your king, so you better—”

Suddenly, the blade of a double edged ax was pressed against Howard’s throat, the cold sharpened metal that was causing a superficial cut on his neck being more than enough to shut his mouth. Tony watched in awe as the petite redhead pressed the ax against his father’s throat, her expression steely as she hissed in a language unknown to Tony, “ _Haltu tungunni þinni, tign þinni, áður en þú týnir henni._ ”

Gasps echoed from the king’s subjects, while the surrounding Vikings sneered in agreement in the same foreign tongue. Tony blinked in exasperation, looking around in both concern and uneasiness. They didn’t speak English? How would they be reasoned with if they didn’t speak English?

“ _Róaðu þig niður, svarta ekkja_.” The leader rumbled, once again silencing the room. His voice was husky and held peacefulness to it, but Tony wasn’t sure if he trusted any peace coming from the barbarian, “ _Það er ekki kominn tími ennþá._ ”

The redhead held her position for a moment longer, before stepping back and removing the blade from Howard’s neck, who released a shuddering breath and clutched his throat. “ _Eins og þú vilt, konungur minn._ ” She responded and then smirked, finally switching to a heavy accented English, “Disrespect him again, and say goodbye to your head, _heimskur konungur._ ” She sneered, causing Howard to shiver in place as she walked back into formation.

Tony released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and then felt some relief wash over him. So they _did_ speak English. 

“Very well, your highness,” the leader spoke, catching Tony by surprise by his much less accented English. “Since you so politely asked, I’ll answer. I am Steven Rogersson, and I’d say I come with no desire to cause any harm, but alas, you wouldn’t be able to say the same.”

Howard, after finally being able to compose himself, narrowed his eyes at the man before him, “I have no idea what you are talking about, barbarian.”

Steven stared at Howard unimpressed, seemingly having expected the answer, “Of course you don’t. You weren’t there when your men and the weapons manufactured by you slaughtered my people, now were you?” He flatly said, and Tony’s stomach dropped, “After all, only a cowardly king doesn’t follow his armies into battle to witness the carnage they wrought.” 

Oh no. Tony’s breath quickened and his palms became sweaty. _Oh no_.

“I haven’t attacked any barbarian lands, whatever do you mean?!” Howard countered acidly, causing Tony’s heart to acquire a frantic rhythm. “My armies remain by my kingdom at all times! The only time anything of the like happened was when— when—” 

Tony watched as realization seemed to dawn on his father, and he saw Howard grow pale in a way he had never seen before, which didn’t bode well, “N-no, it can’t be. Those were just tales, there’s no way—”

The Viking leader’s expression went from peaceful to thunderous in an instant, “So that’s why? You thought their king didn’t exist, that there wasn’t really anyone looking after my people? The people you slaughtered for nothing more than a ‘training exercise’ to your army?” The man stepped forward, towering over Howard and causing the king to cower in fear, “The women from my people were violated, their husbands stripped apart, their children burned alive while their pets roasted on spikes to feed your murderer’s bellies, and you are telling me,” he stepped even closer, furious blue eyes pining Howard in place and making him shiver, “they were murdered just because… you thought… I didn’t exist, and therefore, you found yourself in the right to allow innocent people to die?”

Howard shuddered, eyes wide and supplicant as he feebly said, “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have allowed if I knew you were—”

A laugh of disbelief erupted from the—oh God, _oh fuck—_ _King_ of Vikings’ mouth, “So it would be alright to kill them if I didn’t actually exist?”

“N-No!” Howard tried to correct himself, “No, not that! I mean— I just—”

Tony, in the meanwhile, watched the scene unfold in pure confusion. He had read about the barbarians, but his knowledge was very shallow and superficial. He had no recollection of learning about any King capable of causing even Howard the Great to cower and shiver like a pathetic wimp. Howard was arrogant, and overly confident. Not even the worst Kings with the worst reputations had ever managed to scare him, seeing how most kingdoms were highly dependent on the Iron Kingdom and the weapons they manufactured. There was no king who wasn’t under Howard’s thumb, so what…?

He looked up in order to ask Jarvis, but his words died at the tip of his tongue once he saw the horrified expression in the servant’s pale face. His eyes were wide and focused on King Steven, and now that Tony had stopped to notice, Jarvis arms were shivering around him. “J…?” He hesitantly asked, but Jarvis didn’t even blink. He looked like he was seeing a ghost. “J, what is it?”

“H-hush, master Anthony,” Jarvis ordered in a whisper, voice shaky, “stay quiet, and whatever you do, do not attract that man’s attention to yourself, ok?

Tony blinked, taken aback. “Why? He doesn’t look so bad—”

“Master Anthony, I beg of you.”

“Jarvis—”

“He is a monster, please, just listen to me.”

Tony frowned, looking back at the king who glowered down at Howard as he continued with his pathetic excuses. He didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a man—a very attractive one at that, and who was justifiably angry if was true what Howard did, which, honestly? Tony didn’t really doubt.

Hell, he was finding a barbarian more pleasant than his own father, so he supposed that spoke for itself.

King Steven eventually scoffed, shaking his head and stepping back, “Enough. I will hear no more excuses. I was expecting the least that was an apology for those whose lives were taken, but you are capable of not even that, Iron King, so we are done here.” He announced, turning around and walking back to his group and giving Tony a clear view of the silver shield strapped to his back—slick, thin, shiny and with the same star shining in the middle. He marveled at the intricate runes carved into the metal and surrounding the star, wondering just who had been the creator of such a masterpiece, but his admiration was short lived, since the next words that came out of the king’s mouth caused Tony’s blood to freeze and his heart to stop, “Burn the place to the ground.”

The waiting warriors howled in agreement, raising their weapons in pure glee as the huddle of terrified subjects and royals to scream in horror and fear. Tony felt his entire world turn upside-down. All his hopes and expectations slipping through his fingers as the reality of what was about to happen struck him like a mace. They were going to die. The Vikings wouldn’t spare them, King Steve _was_ a monster after all. 

The Vikings hounded closer, and Tony watched in panic as they surrounded them with raised weapons with malicious smirks. _Oh God. Oh God. I’m going to die, I’m going to die_!

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” He heard himself scream through the panic, “IF YOU DO IT, YOU ARE NO BETTER THAN HIM.”

That had the Viking King stopping in his tracks and then turning around; a frown etched in his features while he looked for the source of the desperate scream.

“ _Hættu_ ,” he suddenly ordered, causing the Vikings to stop and look at him in confusion, just like his group of advisers, “Who said that?”

“I did!” Tony immediately spoke, ignoring Jarvis’ continuous begging for him to not. He eventually pulled himself out of the servant’s arms and stepped forward, chin up, heart on his throat, “I did, and you know I’m right.”

King Steven finally seemed to find him through the throng of people, and once their eyes met, Tony felt himself freeze in place. The king stared at him, eyes narrowed but sparking interest—interest that Tony fully intended to take advantage of. “And who might you be, mouthy one?” King Steven demanded, stepping forward once more. Tony inhaled deeply and ignored Howard’s outraged glare. This was his chance. If there’s any way he could save what was left of his people, then he would take it, consequences be damned.

“Kill us now, and you won’t be any better than King Howard,” Tony repeated, feeling confidence build within as the Viking tilted his head slightly, “Most people in this room didn’t have a choice but to serve under him. I’m not sure what has transpired during the attack to your people, but in the name of my headstrong father and my entire kingdom, I humbly apologize.”

King Steve perked up at that, “You’re the prince?”

Tony nodded, “Yes.”

“And you are saying you were not aware of your father’s actions?” The king pressed on, expression once more turning tempestuous. Tony swallowed nervously. _Focus, Tony_.

“Y-Yes. I’m not allowed to be aware of any royal matters, for some reason unbeknown to me,” he jabbed, not missing the way Howard downright glared at him with wrathful eyes, but Tony completely ignored him, “But I swear we were oblivious to it. I, for one, would not have stood by it if I knew about it, but my father tends to be gullible regarding his royal advisers so—”

“You shut your mouth right now, boy! Don’t you dare shame me even more!” Howard finally exploded, but Tony didn’t flinch away this time. Not this time.

“No, _you_ shut your mouth!” He rebuked hotly, “You got us into this mess. I’m trying to fix it!”

“You’ll fix nothing, you idiot! I rather go to an early grave with my dignity intact rather than bow my head to these savages!”

Many Vikings growled at that, while King Steve scowled. Tony felt his insides twist with frustration, “What dignity?!” Tony barked back, voice a handful of octaves higher, “You listened to Obadiah’s bullshit again, didn’t you?! Probably one of your drunkard days, where he weasels into your office and makes stupid suggestions, that you just happily agree with!”

“You lower your tone at this exact second, Anthony, or there will be consequences!”

Tony felt his entire face heat up. This was useless. Howard would never listen to reason, so this screaming match was fucking useless. He turned back to the watching king, and found the courage to force himself to ask, “Please, there has to be something we can do.”

King Steven continued to stare at him, and Tony found himself blushing at the intensity of the stare. He hadn’t noticed during his fight with his father, but the king had been staring at him like… like _that_ , ever since they locked eyes earlier. Tony felt the urge to look away, but soldiered on, refusing to give in. Whoever these people were, it was clear they were headstrong, so Tony doubted displaying any sort of weakness would be the right move. He needed to toughen up. After all, weren’t Stark men made of iron?

“To reestablish the balance between life and death, the debt must be paid in blood,” Grumpy Brunette explained with a thick accented voice, apparently noticing his king was otherwise preoccupied, “Your father has slaughtered our people with no concern. Evil men died, as much as innocent ones did, so it’s only natural for the debt to be paid the same way.” The man twirled the mace in his hand, “The natural order must be restored, unless you want the wrath of the All-Father to be wrought upon your souls in the afterlife.”

King Steven, seeming to have woken up from his trance, nodded, “You took, therefore, it shall be taken from you. It’s how the natural order of things work.”

Tony felt his blood run cold and his hopes to die once more. So there was no hope for them, after all? He got what they were saying—there was something similar he learned in his classes about Christianism. If you did harm to others, and if you were a bad person, your soul would go to hell once you died. Tony wasn’t sure if it was the same thing, but he was pretty certain it was at least similar, and he couldn’t help but to feel resignation wash over him. He closed his eyes and felt tears prickle at them. So this was truly the end, huh? At least he had tried.

“Wait a second,” Howard suddenly said, causing Tony to glare daggers at him, “so you are saying all we need is to pay a sacrifice for this to be sorted out?”

King Steven frowned, “Not exaclt—”

“Then take him!” Howard yanked Tony’s arm, making him yelp in surprise. The room went silent again as the king went on like a madman, “The heir of the kingdom which caused you so much trouble. That should even things out!”

“Father?!” Tony yelled in horror, trying to get the man to unleash him, “Let me go!”

“That’s what you barbarians are always after, is it not? Conquest? Well, I have the biggest conquest you’ll ever find right here! Don’t think I missed how you were looking at him earlier, Viking lord,” Howard sneered, grabbing Tony’s face and making him whimper, “Such a pretty face, do you know how many offers I got for the hand of this boy? Countless. Countless, I say!”

“Your highness, please stop—” Tony heard Jarvis faintly ask from behind them, but Howard continued as if he hadn’t listened.

“I had other plans for him, but honestly, the brat is just too much work. I’ll just crown someone else I find much more worthy of the throne than him, and well, maybe you can use him to warm your bed before the sacrifice?” Howard manically said, tugging at Tony’s robe and making him fight back in fear and confusion, “I guarantee you you won’t regret it! Let me show you, good Lord, and you’ll surely see what I mean.”

“I don’t think—” King Steven attempted, but he didn’t get to finish since in the next second Howard successfully managed to strip Tony bare from his robe, and was shoving the young prince forward, causing him to fall by the other king’s feet completely naked and shivering from both disbelief and humiliation.

Silence once more impregnated the room, and Tony could do nothing but remain frozen in place, shivering and feeling tears roll unchecked down his cheeks. He knew Howard hated him, God, he knew, but this… this was… he choked up in tears, outright sobbing by the feet of the Vikings who watched in silence. They might as well kill him right then, he just didn’t care anymore.

“You would offer up your own child,” Tony heard King Steve say, voice low and grave, almost thunderous, “to save _yourself_?”

Tony released a shuddering breath midst sobs, gathering courage to look up at the man who apparently held his life in his hands. He met the Viking’s expression, and couldn’t help the scared gasp that escaped his trembling lips. The king’s expression was nothing like before. His expression was furious, and there was an unseen storm raging inside those bright blue eyes that would probably make even the strongest of men soil themselves. It was one of the scariest sights Tony had ever witnessed, and even if somehow Tony felt that said anger was not directed at him, there was no doubt the king was a terrifying man, and Tony was about to be given to him—like a lamb being gifted to a hungry wolf.

Another sob wrecked his body and he lowered his head once more. It was unfair. It was so unfair.

“Of course I would! Anything for our kingdom.” Howard laughed, almost hysterically. Tony wasn’t sure if the man had gone full mad or not, but he didn’t really find strength in himself to care, “Isn’t that what he wanted? To save us all? Well, there is it! Everyone wins! Now take the little whore and get out of my territory.”

Tony hugged himself and cried harder. _So fucking unfair_.

“No!” Jarvis cried out, pushing past Howard and completely ignoring the king’s angry shout. In less than a second Tony’s bare body was once more engulfed by Jarvis’ warm embrace, Jarvis who was shaking and hugging him like his life depended on it. “Please, please don’t take our boy from us. He’s the only thing we have left of our beloved Queen. Please Your Highness, _please_.”

Tony sniffled and buried his face deeper against Jarvis’ tunic, wishing he could disappear from the face of the earth right then. Howard screamed something, which Jarvis—for the first time Tony had ever seen—responded just as venomously, and hugged Tony closer. _At least it is warm_ , Tony thought. _Will be nice to die in the arms of the only real parent I’ve ever had_.

Silence stretched on after that, and after a few minutes, Tony felt Jarvis tap gently at his head, which he raised questioningly only to meet the Viking Lord’s impressive blue eyes. King Steven had lowered himself to their level, the previous fury absent from his face as he gazed ao them with a look exuding sorrow, empathy, and much for Tony’s surprise, a twinge of concern.

“ _Litli prinsinn_ ,” he rumbled, causing Jarvis to pull Tony closer again almost automatically, but the protective gesture didn’t keep the Viking from proceeding, “would you like to come with us?”

Tony whimpered and buried himself further into Jarvis’ embrace, “Please don’t hurt me.”

That had the king staring again, only this time, it was in disbelief. He then raised his head towards Jarvis, who Tony didn’t need to look to know was glaring at the king like a lioness about to pounce at the slightest sign her cub was in danger.

“ _Af hverju er hann svona hræddur?_ ” The king asked in his foreign tongue, to which—much for Tony’s surprise—Jarvis responded in kind.

“ _Þú ert villtur maður, skrímsli með hræðilegt orðspor og faðir hans gaf honum bara þig._ ” Jarvis said, tone flat, “ _Hvað finnst þér Víkingur_?”

The king smiled thinly, “ _Svo þú skilur okkur, eftir allt saman_.”

Jarvis jutted out his chin, “ _Ég hef kennt þessu barni allt sem hann veit, þess vegna veit ég líka mikið._ ”

“Hm.” The king hummed thoughtfully, “ _Hvað með konung þinn_ _?”_

Jarvis huffed, hugging Tony tighter and kissing the top of his head, “ _Eftir það sem bara gerðist gat mér ekki verið meira sama um manninn._ ”

“ _Mjög vel._ ” King Steven nodded, getting to his feet and turning back to his advisers, “ _Taktu þjónana til bátanna._ ”

They stared in disbelief at him for a second, but the redhead soon was pushing them away to do whatever they had been told to do. Tony watched wordlessly as they marched towards the castle servants and ushered them out of the throne room. They whimpered and hugged each other, some feebly resisted, crying out for Tony and begging for mercy, certain that those would be their final moments, that they were being carried to their deaths, and Tony could only continue to cry because… because he didn’t know either.

“J, where…” he asked breathlessly, “where are they…?”

“The boats?” Jarvis whispered to himself, not seeming to have heard Tony’s question, “Why bring them to the boats?”

Tony blanched. To the boats? So they were being taken as prisoners? Tony shuddered. He had read about that too, how Vikings took in the ones they didn’t kill as slaves—or Thralls, as they called them. Suddenly, dying didn’t feel so bad, and Tony could only curse Howard and his selfishness for having doomed him and his loyal servants, doomed _Jarvis_ , to a life even worse than they already had while locked in that cold castle.

He hated Howard, oh how he did, and he could only wish that the man and his god damned advisers got what they deserved when it was their time. Maybe Rhodey would take upon him to avenge Tony and the rest of them? He could only hope. Rhodey did always say he would move mountains and tame seas in order to protect Tony, and it felt like the kind of thing he would do once he found out Howard sold him out to save his own neck.

“So you have accepted my apology gift? That’s wonderful!” Howard chirped, causing Tony to huff and bury his face further against Jarvis’ tunic, “Now leave my lands. I have much to fix and allies to contact—”

“You know, king Stark of the south, I have met many kings during my voyages,” Tony heard King Steven say, and the next thing he knew, the man was aiding him and Jarvis to their feet, “and of all the horrible men I faced, you are undeniably one of the most despising of them all.”

Tony eyed him in confusion as the king swiftly removed his pelt cloak from his shoulders and draped it around Tony’s nude body instead. He gasped in surprise as the soft fur caressed his skin and hid his modesties from prying eyes, revelling in the warmth and dizzy with the delicious smell that wafted from it—King Steven’s smell—which was heady and intoxicating, _powerful_ , like the man himself. 

Tony had no idea what was going on, nor why the king was looking at him with sad, concerned eyes, which held so much gentleness that Tony felt his face warming up. He frowned and hid his face partially with the furs to keep his damp blushed cheeks from sight. He expected lecherous looks, or even angry ones, not this.

King Steven smiled, the smile small and reassuring, and Tony could only blink in confusion. _Definitely_ not _this_.

King Steven then looked ahead towards Howard, and the gentleness in his expression morphed into one of contempt, “I do accept your gift, and the debt will be paid, so worry not. I’m sure you’ll get what you deserve once you reach the realm of the dead.”

Howard beamed, “Thank you, good sir. I assure you, you will not regret this! I’m sure we can talk business afterwards, maybe an alliance? A man of your power with my weapons, you’ll be able to take over the continent in the blink of an eye!”

Tony choked up a sob and shoved his face against the soft fur. He was speechless with his father. He never got to know his mother, but there was no doubt she would be disappointed on what her husband became if she could see him now.

King Steven scoffed, “I’ll have to refuse. There’s nothing you can offer me that would be suitable to my needs.”

“Nonsense, every man has a price. What is it then? Riches? I have silver, and gold as well! You are free to take from the castle chambers, consider another gift for finally ridding me of this ungrateful brat I happened to sire.” Howard sneered, and tony heard Jarvis grunt in outrage and probably turn to glare at the man. Tony didn’t bother to do it. He refused to even look at Howard’s face.

King Steven seemed to grunt something unhappily in his mother tongue, ignoring whatever Howard was going on about and coaxing Jarvis and Tony to walk towards the exit. They did it without preamble, wanting to leave that place as soon as possible, and reached the main entrance where a big muscular and blond man awaited. Tony held back the need to recoil once the big guy glowered down at them with a single good blue eye—the one that wasn’t covered by an eye-patch. His beard was longer than the king’s, even allowing it to be braided like the rest of his bright blond hair. A thick hammer was strapped to his black armor’s leather belt, and the low rumble of a voice he possessed was enough to send terrified shivers down Tony’s spine, “ _Konungur minn, hvað með járn djöfullinn?_ ” He growled, “ _Honum verður ekki refsað?_ ”

“ _Ég man ekki að hafa sagt það, Þór._ ” The viking leader answered without breaking a step, “ _Dreptu þá alla._ ”

Jarvis gasped at the same time the burly sentinel smiled deviously and strolled back into the room, yelling something that riled up the other Vikings. Jarvis quickened his step and forced Tony to do the same as they followed the Viking King out of the castle, but even in their haste, Tony was still able to hear it: the unmistakable noise of a massacre taking place, and Howard Stark’s screams echoing through the frigid walls of his iron castle until they ceased completely. Realization struck Tony, and his eyes widened in both horror and amazement. The king had killed Howard after all? But why? Hadn’t he been the price to even things out? And if he would kill Howard anyway, why he accepted to take Tony and the servants away before he gave the order?

With his head a whirlwind of confused thoughts, and his heart thundering wildly inside his chest, Tony could only stare at the star in the center of the king’s gleaming shield and wonder:

How could these Vikings be his doom, when it felt like they had been his salvation?

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> "Haltu tungunni þinni, tign þinni, áður en þú týnir henni" — Hold your tongue, your majesty, before you end up losing it.  
> "Róaðu þig niður, svarta ekkja." — Calm down, Black Widow.  
> "Það er ekki kominn tími ennþá" — It's not time yet.  
> "Eins og þú vilt, konungur minn" — As you wish, my king.  
> "Heimskur konungur" — Stupid king  
> "Hættu" — Stop  
> "Litli prinsinn" — Little prince  
> "Af hverju er hann svona hræddur?" — Why is he so scared?  
> "Þú ert villtur maður, skrímsli með hræðilegt orðspor og faðir hans gaf honum bara þig. Hvað finnst þér Víkingur?" — You are a wild man, a monster with a terrible reputation and his father just gave him to you. What do you think, Viking?  
> "Svo þú skilur okkur, eftir allt saman" — So you understand us, after all.  
> "Ég hef kennt þessu barni allt sem hann veit, þess vegna veit ég líka mikið" — I have taught this child everything he knows, so I know a lot too.  
> "Hvað með konung þinn?" — What about your king?  
> "Eftir það sem bara gerðist gat mér ekki verið meira sama um manninn" — After what just happened, I couldn't care less about that man.  
> "Mjög vel. Taktu þjónana til bátanna" — Very well. Take the servants to the boats.  
> "Konungur minn, hvað með járn djöfullinn?" — My king, what about the Iron Devil?  
> "Honum verður ekki refsað?" — He will not be punished?  
> "Ég man ekki að hafa sagt það, Þór" — I don't remember saying that, Thor.  
> "Dreptu þá alla" — Kill them all.
> 
> I might have effed these a bit but......... sigh. depending on translators s u c k s.


End file.
